Acting out
by Writingiswhatiam
Summary: Sequal to Secrets and Lies. Breanna is now 16 and attending DCS. She's becoming a party animal...and the school slut. When her world spirals out of control can she handle the consequences? Rated R for SC, underage drinking, drug use and minimum profanity.
1. My Life

A/N-This is the sequel to Secrets and Lies, my Craig and Emma story. Now, this is the story of their daughter, Breanna's, life and conflictions as she attends Degrassi Community School. I hope you enjoy this spoof, please read and review. If you want me to continue my Secrets and Lies then say so in your review. Thank you.  
  
I walked up the stairs to Degrassi Community School, dressed in my usual hip-huggers and belly shirt that showed off my piercing with arm bands around my wrists. My make-up was perfectly done, with dark eyeliner, neutral eye shadow and lip-gloss. My long blond hair hung straight around my face. I stopped at my locker, grabbed my books and headed to Mr. Simpson's class...I so can't believe my grandfather is still working here. I walked in and sat down at my computer. I sighed, brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and instant messaged my friend, Brooke.  
  
BreannaN: Hey gurl, 'sup?  
  
BrookeC: Nothing much. There's a party tonight, at Justin Marona's place. You coming?  
  
BreannaN: You know I am; if there's a party, I'm there. Just have to figure out a way to get out of the house. (  
  
BrookeC: Cool, cool, cool. Can't wait, want to come over before, I'll give you a makeover. BreannaN: Sounds great to me.  
  
"Miss Nelson, Miss Cameron, please abstain from instant messaging during class," Mr. Simpson said.

"Yeah," I said, closing out the window. "No problem, sorry Mr. S."  
  
That night, Mom said I could go to Brooke's house, but I had to be home by eleven; yeah right. So, now I am at Brooke's house, and she's doing my make-up, while I'm thinking about the party. "Who all do you think is going to be there?" I asked.

"Only everybody who is anybody," she said. "Hold still, I'm almost done." When she finished, she didn't let me look in the mirror until she picked out some clothes. She decided on a pair of black hip-huggers and a vintage belly shirt that stopped about two inches from my belly button. I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize myself. I looked awesome. I had charcoal gray eye shadow, dark black eyeliner and mascara and brown lipstick, the look was kind of gothic and immoral but who cares? I don't. "You look amazing. The guys are going to trip over you," she said as she did her own make-up.  
  
The party was a blast; I was dancing with these two guys, one in front of me, one behind me, rubbing against them. I was acting like a slut, but I didn't care, I was finally having fun. Sue me. When the song was over, I got a beer out of the cooler and sat down on the couch. Justin Marona came over to me and extended his hand. "Hey, baby, you want to go upstairs?"   
"Yeah," I said, taking his hand and following him up. I made eye contact with Brooke, who gave me a 'thumbs up' sign. He stopped at a room, opened the door and closed it after I followed him in. He sat down on the bed and I stood in front of him. He touched my bare stomach and slipped his hand under my shirt. I kissed him, moving closer. We started kissing harder and harder, and he pulled me down on the bed with him. Enough said.  
  
When we were done, I went back downstairs to the party to find Brooke. I told her what happened. "You go girl!" she said.   
"Yeah," I said, not sure how I felt about it. It took ten minutes before Justin found me sitting outside on the porch.   
"Hey, how's my girl?" he asked, dropping down next to me.  
"I hardly think that a fling makes me your girl," I said.   
"Wow, fun and no strings attached. That's my kind of woman." I took a drink of the beer in my hand. "Well, that's me."  
"So no strings attached? Like, you don't want to, like, date or anything?" he asked, taking my beer from me and taking a drink and then handing it back.  
"Why? You're not the dating type," I said.  
"I would be if the right girl came along," he said slyly. "And who is that right girl?" I asked captivatingly.   
"Someone with long blond hair, that's sort of popular, intelligent but loves to party, and..." he leaned in to kiss me.   
"HEY!" I heard somebody shout. I turned to see Sean Cameron, Brooke's dad.   
"Oh, shit," I muttered. "I have to go..." I stood up and went to Sean. "Brooke's inside, do you want me to get her?" I asked

"Yeah, I want you to get her. And then both of you get in the car, I won't embarrass her by busting her in front of everybody but we have some serious stuff to talk to you two about."  
  
In Sean's car, we were getting majorly lectured.  
  
"You girls have to learn how to party smart, and you were drinking? Brooke, since when are you into drinking? And Breanna, Craig would so kill that guy if he had seen what I saw. He was pulling major moves and tricks to get in your....anyway, you're lucky I'm not going to tell your parents, but I am taking you home. What time did you have to be home?"  
  
"Eleven," I said.  
  
"It's one a.m. your lucky Emma understands just about everything."  
  
"Yeah, really lucky."  
  
My mom so freaked when I walked in the door with Sean and Brooke. Sean explained everything, leaving out the part about me being drunk...but they could see that.  
  
After Brooke and her dad left, my parents told me to go to my room, so I did.  
  
I looked in the mirror at my reflection, I looked like a slut. Eight inches of bare stomach and back showed, making me look like a show- off, desperate for attention. Or maybe that's what I was. My blond hair with black high-lights and overall style made me look like a teenager gone wild.  
  
My mom opened the door and gently said, "Knock, knock."  
  
I smiled halfheartedly. "Hi, Mom," I said.  
  
"Hey, honey," she said softly. "Want to tell me what's going on?"  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked. "I'm just being myself."  
  
"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "Or are you just being someone your friends think you should be?"  
  
"Mom..."  
  
"I know you're a teenager and I understand about self-expression, I really do. But are you sure this is you?"  
  
"I don't know, but I'd like to find out."  
  
"Okay, I understand that. Just be careful. You don't know who you can trust, or who you can count on," she said. "Just answer one question?"  
  
"Did anything happen at the party...with a guy?" she asked.  
  
I had a flashback of what happened a few hours ago, of what happened in Justin's room. "No, nothing," I lied.  
  
After she left, I took a shower. It felt so good to have the hot water on my skin. I could finally relax. I got out and put on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. I turned off the light and curled up on my bed. I wasn't happy with myself. In fact, I hate myself. I hate my reflection when I look in the mirror. They don't understand that I'm not who they see. They see a cover up, a masquerade. I can't keep it up much longer; I don't know what's happening to me. I don't know why I don't care. Tears of sadness and discontent fell down my cheeks. They can never see me like this. Nobody...not even my mom.


	2. Aftermath

***  
I sat down at my desk, and turned my computer on. I logged in and sent my friend, Brooke and instant message.  
Breanna_N: Did you get grounded last night?  
Brooke_C: No, are you kidding? I did get a major lecture tho.  
Breanna_N: My mom was actually pretty cool about it.  
Brooke_C: I thought Dad was going to freak when he caught us at that party.  
Breanna_N: I know what you mean, I was so freaking out. I thought he was going to kill that guy.  
Brooke_C: Speaking of that guy, what happened when you went upstairs with him, anyway?  
Breanna_N: You don't want to know.  
Brooke_C: Yes, I do.  
Breanna_N: No, you don't.  
Brooke_C: Breanna!  
Breanna_N: Use your imagination.  
Brooke_C: ..... OMG you didn't!  
Breanna_N: I told you, you didn't want to know.  
Brooke_C: What was it like? I mean, he's the most popular guy in school. All I've been with is losers.  
Breanna_N: That's not true.  
Brooke_C: /:)  
Breanna_N: It wasn't anything special. I was drunk, he was horny. That's all there was to it.  
Brooke_C: Are you too like an item now?  
Breanna_N: I doubt it.  
Brooke_C: You should call him.  
Breanna_N: And say what? 'Hey, I'm the girl you slept with last night?' Yeah, right. He probably doesn't even know my name.  
Brooke_C: I think he really likes you. I've seen the way he looks at you.  
Breanna_N: You think?  
Brooke_C: Yeah, I do. Call him.  
Breanna_N: *sigh* okay, hang on.  
I picked up the phone and dialed Justin's number.  
"Hey," I said when he picked up. "This is Breanna."  
"Breanna, hi, wazzup?" he asked.  
"Nothing much, I just wanted to talk to you, about last night I mean," I ran my hands nervously through my hair.  
"Oh," he said. "Don't worry about it, I wont tell anyone."  
"That's not what I'm worried about...I mean, that's sweet but..."  
"Just say it already, Breanna," I heard him laugh lightly.  
I smiled. "I forgot what I was supposed to say."  
"That's so cute," he said. "Listen, if you don't want to date or anything...that's cool with me. Just so you know."  
"You don't want to date?" I asked.  
"That's not what I'm saying."  
"Then what are you saying?"  
"I'm saying that whatever you want to do is fine," he said.  
"Oh," I said. "Do you want to give it a try?"  
"Tomorrow night, pick you up at seven?"  
"Okay," I said and hung up the phone.  
Breanna_N: We have a date for tomorrow night!  
Brooke_C: YAY! You have to let me do your make-up.  
I hesitated before typing: Breanna_N: No thanks, I think I'll do it myself.  
Brooke_C: Cool, I got to go. Dad's coming.  
Brooke_C has logged off.  
***  
I stood in front of my mirror. I was wearing a pair of denim hip- huggers, a pair of platform boots and a spaghetti strapped tank top. My make-up was pretty plain, with my signature dark eyeliner and clear lip gloss.  
"I'm not sure about this," Mom said.  
"Mom, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, okay?" I said.  
She raised her eyebrows. "Was this guy at the party the other night?"  
"Actually...it was his party. But he wasn't even really there, he was upstairs most of the time," I said leaving out the fact that I was up there with him.  
"Be careful," she said.  
"I promise," I hugged her and headed downstairs when I heard the doorbell ring.  
***  
We sat in the car at a stop-light. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.  
"I don't know," I said.  
"There's a club downtown," he said.  
"Uh," I started. "I don't think my mom would like that very much. I mean..." I started laughing at how dorky that had sounded. "That's not what I mean, I just mean that with my coming in drunk like I did the other night, I think it would make it worse if she knew I was out club-hopping."  
He laughed. "Okay, okay. How about a movie?"  
"Sure."  
***  
After the movie, we went to the park and he turned the car off. He put his arm around me.  
I hesitated and opened my mouth to say something but he kissed me. I managed to pull away when his hands started roaming.  
"What are you expecting?" I asked.  
"Nothing..." he said. "I mean, after the other night...I thought....."  
I nodded, "Yeah, I know what you thought." I sighed and opened the door.  
He grabbed my arm, "Wait, Brie, I'm sorry, I was being a jerk. Come on, get back in. please?"  
I held his eye contact.  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed like that," he said. "I won't do it again, I promise. I want to give us a chance, okay?"  
"Okay," I said. "But I'm not who you think I am. I'm not what you think I am."  
He put his arms around me in a hug, and then started the car. "Do you want me to take you home?"  
"Do you want to take me home?"  
"Not really," he said. "But you look tired."  
"I just have a headache," I said. "I've been through a lot lately."  
"Want to talk about it?" he asked.  
I looked at him. He actually looked like he cared about me. I was really surprised. Maybe he did have a heart. "Sure," I said.  
***  
"So," I said. "My dad is in Europe on a photo-shoot, so that means my mom has a lot more time to worry about me...when she's not working. And Brooke is putting me under all this pressure to dress like this, act like that, it's just too much." I leaned my head against his shoulder.  
"I'm sorry, I had no idea," he said.  
"Nobody does," I said, my voice breaking. "But hey, I'm the daughter of Emma Nelson, environmentalist crusader, protector of the weak, defender of the shy," my voice was dripping with bitter sarcasm. "The girl who got pregnant and gave it all up for one guy. My life's bound to be screwy."  
He laughed. "Don't talk like that, everything will be fine."  
I took out a cigarette and lit one up. I inhaled deeply and relaxed, then handed it to Justin. We shared the 'smoke' together and talked. It was cool to get my mind off of things. It felt really nice. 


	3. Hook up

For those of you who have been waiting for this...I'm sorry it took me so long to update.

I sat on my bed a few days later. I wasn't really doing anything, just thinking. I was remembering my date with Justin. Why had I opened up like that? And why did I sleep with him at the party? What kind of person was I becoming?

The phone ringing persistently next to me interrupted my thoughts. "Hello," I said, picking it up.

"Hey, it's Kyle," the voice said.

Kyle Spencer? "Hey..." I said, trying to remember why he would be calling me.

"Did you have fun at the party?"

_Oh...that's right...he was one of the guys I danced with_. "Yeah, I had a blast."

"I was wondering if you wanted to hook up later?"

"What makes you think I would want to do that?" I asked.

"Well...I saw you go upstairs with Justin. And, believe it or not...I know you're into that sort of thing."

I hesitated. I didn't really want to, but I felt like I didn't have much of a choice. I haven't been a virgin for years, so it wasn't like I had anything to lose. "Alright."

"Awesome."

"Are your parents home?''

"No."

"I'll be over soon, then," I said, hanging up the phone.

I stood and crossed the room to my closet. I pulled out a skirt and a tank top and put them on. I ran downstairs and started toward Kyle's house.

I knocked on the door and he answered within seconds..._so pathetic._

"You look hot," he said.

"Thanks." I walked past him and into the house.

We made out for a while and then he started getting physical. I wanted to stop him but I couldn't...I'd come here to screw him, hadn't I?

I walked home around five, when we had finished. I hugged my arms, feeling degraded. I wanted to cry...but I couldn't. I didn't understand. _Why am I like this? Why do I act like a slut...why do I sleep with anyone who's willing to screw me?_

I went upstairs to my room and changed into a pair of track pants and a tank top, wanting to disappear.

I sat on my bed, and wiped a tear from my cheek. The phone rang, and I stared at it. I didn't want to answer, fearing it would be another guy wanting me to sleep with him. Slowly, I answered the phone.

"Hey, Breanna," Justin's voice came from the other end.

"Hey," I said.

"Are you okay? You sound upset."

"I'm fine," I said, trying my best to keep my voice from breaking.

"Are you sure?"

"I said I was okay!" I snapped, then calmed down again. "I'm sorry...I'm just sort of upset that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Well, I called to see if you wanted to come over for dinner."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Well, Mom's at work today. She wont be home for a while," I said. "So, I guess I could."

"Cool," he said. "Can you be here at six?"

"Yeah," I said.

"See you then."

"Bye," I hung up. I sighed and flopped down on the bed. How could I face him now?

I took a shower and blow-dried my hair, styling it so it was wavy. I decided on a pair of pink track pants and a matching tank top with sneakers.

I walked to Justin's house and rang the doorbell.

A woman, about my height, with long, dark wavy hair answered the door. "Hi," she said with a smile. "You must be Breanna."

"Yeah," I said.

She moved aside to let me in. "I'm Justin's mom...but you can just call me Manny."


	4. Confessions of a guilty mind

In case you were wondering, _She's Too Young_ inspired this fanfic.

I sat at the table next to Justin and across from Manny. She seemed really nice, and I she was trying hard to make me feel welcome. It was working because I had almost forgotten what had happened earlier. But then I remembered, and a sickening feeling settled in my stomach.

"Who are your parent's, Breanna?"

"Emma Nelson and Craig Manning," I told her.

Her face lit up. "Oh my God, Breanna? I knew you when you were just a little girl! You've grown up so much…wow. I bet you don't remember me much, do you?"

"A little," I lied.

The phone rang then. "That's my husband, he's out of town. You guys can go upstairs and make yourselves at home," she said, leaving the table.

"This always happens," Justin said, taking my hand. He led me upstairs to his bedroom. I remembered being there the night of the party.

"Your dads out of town a lot?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"So is mine. He didn't even come into my life until I was five or something. I don't remember much. But your mom seems really nice."

"Yeah, she's been through a lot."

I nodded.

"But I don't want to talk about it," he said, moving closer.

"Yeah," I said. I felt _so_ miserable; it wasn't funny. I tried to smile, but I couldn't. I covered it up by kissing him. Making out gave us something to do instead of talking. When things started to speed up, I kept having flashbacks of Kyle and I felt his hands on me. "Stop," I said, sitting up.

Justin sat up, his shirt was off and his pants were unbuttoned.

"I'm sorry," I said. I wiped a tear from my eyes, but more formed in its place.

"It's okay," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I pulled away from him.

"Breanna, it's okay…I told you, I'm not in this for sex."

"It isn't that, I've just had a rough day, that's all," I said. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head 'no'. "I think I should go home," I told him.

"Breanna, wait…what's going on? Did something happen?"

"Kind of."

"Tell me, please?"

"It's not important."

"It is to me."

"Justin, please." I looked at him, my eyes were pleading him to drop it and let me go home.

"Okay," he said, letting me walk past him.

I jogged home, trying not to cry. I opened the door to my house and shut it, leaning against it, as if some stalker was chasing me. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down.

"Honey, are you okay?" I heard my mom asked.

I looked up. I hadn't known she was there. "I'm fine," I said. I ran up the stairs and shut my door.

I heard Mom following me. "Breanna, what is going on?"

"Nothing is going on!" I shouted.

"_Something_ is. You don't act like this, this isn't who you are."

"How would you know who I am?" I asked. I paced my room.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Baby, talk to me!"

"I'm not your little girl anymore, Mom! Don't you see that I'm growing up?" I exclaimed.

"I see that, Breanna. Do you think I'm blind?" she grabbed my arm. "What is going on?"

"I'm just not feeling well, okay?"

"Why aren't you feeling well?"

"I don't know, am I a doctor?"

She looked at me for a minute. "Are you having sex?"

"Where did that come from?" I asked.

"The way you dress, the way you act."

"So my clothes make me a slut, is that what you're saying?"

"Breanna, of course not! Just answer the question. If you're having sex, you need to be on birth control."

_I'm already on birth control_, I though to myself. "Can we not talk about this?"

"So you are having sex?"

"Mom, please!"

"Breanna, sex is a very powerful thing. A lot of women can't just do it without getting emotionally attached and that's where girls get hurt."

"Well, I've been careful if that's what you're worried about."

I was expecting her to freak out, to call me names and say I wasn't her daughter, say she didn't know what I was turning into. But she didn't. Instead she said, "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when your father gets home." That was worse.


End file.
